Count another grip, smoke another zip
Yet them young niggas tell it I be on my shit
Make a hundred k, spend it all today
What can I say, my DNA is Givenchy
What my swag is, retarded
What I'm driving, Ferrari
What I'm rocking, Armani, Gianni Versace, huh
Fuck around and I'll buy one of you broke niggas
My change, insane
My chain, oh that thing
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It's nothing, It's nothing
Stackin' cheese till my bread right
Smokin' weed till my head right
Did it all on my own so, I'mma spend all my bread like
It's nothing, It's nothing
Stackin' cheese till my bread right
Smokin' trees till my head right
Did it all on my own so, I'mma spend all my bread like
It's nothing, It's nothing
You niggas chasin' money I'm on top of it
If it ain't money don't know what the topic is
Don't come out till next year that mean I'm rockin' it
Order thirty-seven bottles call it poppin' shit
Goddamn, what you on?
A private plane, fuck you on
Party in south of France when it's cold
Used to rock all that old shit till it got old
My hair longer than your girl
Go shawty it's your world
Sub-zero flow, when I spit, I see snow flurries
Scarface, all out
All I want in this world
I mean all I want for lunch, is a blunt, and your girl
It ain't nothin' to me but it's somethin' to you
Count money like it's somethin' to do
Summer time I'm like fuck the roof, winter time I'm in 'Lo boots
And uh, it's nothin'
I like being high because it's a better view
And, I told your ho my chain so cold it's on Theraflu
Artist: Insane Clown Posse
Artist: Chris Rice
Artist: Rick Wakeman